


If I see grey one more time...

by pharaohkong (orphan_account)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Jealousy, M/M, Not!Fic, Pining, Temporarily Unrequited Love, not!fic chapter two, solids
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2020-12-28 07:34:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21133001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/pharaohkong
Summary: Stiles needs a new boyfriend and Derek owes him a favour. These things seem to work out on their own.





	If I see grey one more time...

The text comes in at twenty to midnight sharp.

Derek looks at it if only to take a break from his grey bedroom wall. It's a great wall. Its simple. Plain. Basic.

_ Stiles: Remember Elizabeth's New Years Party..._

_ Stiles is typing..._

Derek frowns, and types out a quick reply before Stiles can say anything.

_ Derek: Thats number two on the things we don't talk about._

_ Delivered. Read._

_Stiles is typing... _

_Stiles: I thought number two was Boyd's picnic. _

Derek lets out a quiet snort, vague memories about liquor, a bonfire, Lydia's designer bag, brief blackmail and a no questions, limited conditions favour for Derek.

_Derek: I loved Boyd's picnic._

_Stiles: You would. Anyway, speaking of, I'm calling in my solid._

Derek looks up and stares at the wall again. Its not the biggest wall in his room, but its the one he wakes up looking at and the last thing he sees before he drifts off.

_Derek: Nothing out of town._

_ Stiles: Someone keeping you here_?

Derek frowns again.

_ Derek: No. I'm repainting my wall. _

_Delivered. Read._

_ Stiles: Good._

_ Derek: What do you want?_

_ Stiles: Nothing too big... _

_Stiles: :) _

_Stiles: Just wait a minute._

_ Derek: Nothing stupid._

_Stiles is typing... _

_Read._

Derek lets it go, unbothered. He rearranges his pillows and makes himself comfortable on his back. An unread message from Laura sits in his inbox.

_ 23.15 Laura: If you hate it, then why don't you just paint over it._

_ 23.54 Derek: Do you think accent walls are too basic?_

_23.55 Laura: Who cares? No one sees your room anyway. _

_23.56 Derek: My nose is in-scent-sitive! _

_23.56 Laura: You are going to be an amazing father one day Derek. Just keep them coming._

_ 23.57 Derek: It's an actual term, Laura. Read a book. _

_Delivered. Read. 23.57_

_ Laura is typing.... _

_Read. _

A Facebook notification pops up but Derek quickly swipes it away. Its probably another friend posting recently or something on their timeline. He opens his laptop, logs onto Laura's Pinterest and searches up wall ideas. Lots of flowers, cliche quotes and hippie decorations flood the timeline. Two messages pop up at the same time but he ignores them, having seen one particularly terrible one with animal heads poking out. He shivers and scrolls down.

Too many walls with photo ideas. The idea gradually loses its appeal after the tenth pic with various images of people's friends and families covering every inch. He doesn't even have that many printed photos himself and he can't see himself dragging his already small circle out for pictures. Its around his third unconscious rejection of the picture location (his brain wandered to a sandy beach but refused to picture him and Cora smiling at a camera with the sea as a background) that he realises he doesn't even know why he is considering it. For a moment, he even wonders why he is considering changing his wall.

His hands are back on his phone. He ignores the new text from Cora, which basically consists of _WHAT THE FUCK DEREK?_ He ignores Laura's too which is just three exclamation marks, but scrolls up her DMs and rereads their messages from the afternoon.

Colour. They were talking about colour.

_ 14.33 Laura: Buzz feed wants to know what my brother's favourite colour is._

_ 14.33 Derek: ?_

_14.34 Laura: I'm shopping and I saw this nice Henley on sale. I want to see if they have any other colour other than black._

_ 14.34 Derek: What's wrong with black? _

_14.34 Laura: Your car is black, your leather jacket is black and I bet my kidney that your bedroom walls are black too._

_ 14.40 Derek: Keep it. It's grey._

_ 14.41 Laura: Derek, Derek, Derek. _

_14.47 Derek: I hate it too._

A ding sounds, the kind that shows there are new messages in your open conversation. He scrolls down and there are more exclamation marks.

_ Laura: !!!!_

_Laura: !!!!!!_

_Derek: you told me yourself you haven't touched a book in months?_

_Laura: I'm not talking about that!_

_ Derek: ?_

_ Laura: Stiles?_

Cora's messages are also piling up_. _

_Cora: What the fuck?_

_ Cora: STILES? _

_Cora: How long has this been going on? _

A cold feeling crawls over Derek as he finds himself typing back.

_Derek: What are you talking about?_

_Cora: Omg._

_Cora: Did you uninstall your Facebook again?_

Derek frowns, pulling down his notification bar. The Facebook label tells him he has a new notification. He curses, mind already racing in his memories for any embarrassing photos that Stiles might have.

He isn't expecting what he finds when he clicks the notification.

It takes him straight to his profile and a bright new message declares.

_Derek Hale is now in a relationship with Stiles Stilinski._

Under the relationship update is one comment and its Stiles's. Kissy face, love heart eyes, a rainbow and a fucking red heart because Stiles doesn't know when enough is enough.

A new text pops up just a bit after midnight.

_ Stiles: No questions, limited conditions?_

_***_

Stiles slides another cup over, ignoring that his current cup is still half full. Its black, like his leather jacket and car and he would be annoyed if he didn't have other things to be annoyed about.

Like the hand that's snaking through the table to grip his.

'Hey, boo,' Stiles grins, lacing their fingers. He looks good, even though he looks like he just woke up and ran to the first place he could find Derek. His cheeks are red, his hair is tousled from the wind and he keeps breathing in short little breaths.

Derek moves his hand away, using all his fingers to clutch at his own coffee. An eyebrow inches up. 'No.'

Stiles rolls his eyes and holds up his hands in the universal "let me explain" language. Derek doesn't say anything but Stiles has always known what he's trying to say. Something about his eyebrows having a language of their own.

Stiles smiles. 'I'm calling in a solid.'

His eyebrows come down.

Stiles smirks. 'You can't say no.'

They dance across his forehead. He settles on unimpressed.

Stiles gapes. 'I'm not using you.'

Derek takes another sip and lifts his left brow up in a clear cut question. Stiles moves uneasily on the table, hands coming up on the table then back to his knees under the table then back again.

Finally he grumbles out, 'It has to be you.'

Derek frowns and contemplates this but his mind comes up at a blank. 'Has to be me?'

Stiles's face reddens and he almost looks embarrassed if not for the determined clench of his jaw. He grits out, 'Yes.'

Derek waits. When it looks like Stiles who can't keep quiet to save his own life has nothing to say, his lips thin. 'You are serious.'

Stiles nods.

'How do you expect me to be your boyfriend without any explanation?'

'The rules say I don't have to tell you anything and you don't get to ask questions. You just do the solid.' Stiles argues back.

'Those were bullshit rules _you_ made when _you_ were drunk!' Derek fights to keep from growling.

'You didn't seem to mind very much at Elizabeth's New Years Party, big guy.'

Derek clenches, unclenches his jaw. 'That's stupid. All I wanted was a ride home, not a fake boyfriend.'

Stiles raises a hand, a finger raising at each point as he lists down. 'I'll do you one better. You tell me why you ended up naked with Kate Argent in Lizzie's room and I'll tell you why I need you to be my boyfriend.'

They stare at each other, Derek mostly glaring and Stiles mostly trying hard not to blink. Derek relents first, sighing heavily before taking the last swig of his coffee. Then he reaches for Stiles's offered cup.

'Fine.'

Stiles brightens up. 'You'll do it?'

Derek sighs. 'I'll think about it.’

***

This work is incomplete but Chapter 2 is a not!fic explaining the end.

**Author's Note:**

> This sounded a lot cooler in my head. Words don't come easy. Hate comments welcome.


End file.
